I could tell you exactly where I was standing in my midtown apartment at Gables. In the living room facing my bedroom door, I stood there with tears streaming down my face. I was at the first place I had ever felt safe and at home. Only, I was leaving to move back to Cartersville. I was furious.
I stood in there with my fist raised, very Scarlet O’Hara, and yelled at God that I didn’t want to go back to Cartersville, to let me stay in MY home, my beautiful apartment that my mother and I had painstakingly decorated ourselves.
